CREDIT CARD DRAMA

When Your Credit Card Decides to Cause Drama

Sometimes, life sends little reminders that even everyday things deserve attention. 

Recently, my bank flagged a small USD charge as suspicious. My card was temporarily deactivated and I had to call the credit card center to resolve it.

At first, I was surprised what triggered the alert? After checking, it turned out to be a small fraudulent charge; a common “test” amount that scammers often try first.

The bank was quick to act and I now have a plan to cancel the old card and get a replacement. My two active subscriptions will be updated and my finances remain secure.

What struck me most wasn’t the inconvenience. It was how calmly everything was handled; by the bank and by me. No panic. No stress. Just verification, action and moving forward.

Takeaway? Life sometimes throws minor curveballs. How we respond…calmly, mindfully and with practical action, makes all the difference. 

MY THROBBING KNEE & THE MRI ADVENTURE

Some days, your body decides to teach you a lesson. 

Recently, my right knee started acting up; sharp pain, locking and general grumbling I could no longer ignore. After a few gentle stretches, I realized this was not something to brush off.

I went straight to my orthopaedic, who ordered an MRI. The MRI experience itself deserves a story; cold room, loud machines and the quiet buzz 

of the unknown. I found myself silently praying to my mom, dad and sisters (who apparently have a magic wand) and when I walked out of the MRI, 

the pain had eased.

The results were informative but manageable:-

Tear of the posterior horn of the medial meniscus

Lateral collateral and popliteus ligament strain

Mild cartilage injury under the kneecap

Early degenerative changes

The doctor then advised physiotherapy, rest and gentle knee management. No surgery and importantly, I can continue teaching yoga with care.

Takeaway? Listening to your body, taking early action and responding with humor and mindfulness makes all the difference. 

Small injuries don’t define you; your choices do! And yes… a little prayer to the family magic wand doesn’t hurt either! 😊✨🪄

YOGA, OILS & CHAPATI

Yoga, Oils & Chapati: A Full-Circle Day

After my Yin & Yang yoga this morning, I already felt like my body had woken up in full orchestra mode;  slow stretches, deep breaths and knees cooperating like little champions.

Fast forward to the afternoon and I was at Health & Beyond (Treatment & Wellness) for an Ayurveda massage, a thoughtful treat from my boss. My therapist, Anu Priya from Kerala, has over 10 years of experience and wow… her hands were magic! 

We started with warm oil on my head and neck while I sat on the chair. Pure bliss. Then came the calf massage, the very spot that cramped a few days ago decided to remind me it exists. 😅

But Anu’s oil pack technique worked wonders, the cramp calmed down and my left back tension melted away. By the end, my body was floating.

Then… hunger pangs hit. I had only had breakfast and my metabolism was doing cartwheels. So naturally, I landed at Tasty Chapati at The Curve; a cozy North Indian spot that smells like heaven. 

I ordered chapati with chicken varuval and dhall. The first two chapati pieces were tiny, so naturally, I had to get more. 

Sharing their Instagram profile: https://www.instagram.com/tastychapathirestaurant?igsh=MW9xc3lzaHhiZTRqbQ==

I started mindfully, savoring each bite like a true yoga practitioner. But then… surrendered. Full “tear-and-dip mode” activated 😂. By the end, I was fully satisfied and even packed the last chapati and  dhall for later;  smart post-feast planning, if I do say so myself.😊

The day reminded me how nourishment comes in many forms; the stretch and strength from yoga, the healing touch of a skilled massage therapist and the comfort of flavorful food shared with intention (even if it’s just with myself).

For anyone curious, check out Health & Beyond on Instagram for more details: @healthandbeyond.official

A day like today is a little full-circle gift; for body, mind and appetite alike.

AN ORDINARY DAY, HELD GENTLY

Today didn’t look like much on the outside.

A short trip to mom’s place.

A little sweeping.

Car rides. Stairs.

A fan that needed fixing.

A pot of chicken soup left to simmer.

And yet, my heart keeps circling back to it.

It was at my mom’s  place that my knee began to speak; a sharp, insistent reminder each time I got in and out of the car, each step up the stairs. 

Nothing alarming, just clear. 

A body asking to be listened to. 

I smiled to myself, remembering how my mom used to tease me about my low pain tolerance. A “2” for most people easily becomes a “10” for me. Pain be it physical or emotional, has always reached me quickly. So does grief.

But maybe that sensitivity isn’t weakness. Maybe it’s honesty.

Looking back now, I realise how my day quietly unfolded around care.

So, as I was at mom’s home, I cleared a little space. I brought something familiar back with me; the table fan I’d been using there. And so, I cleaned it, dismantled it, put it back together and let it spin again.

And then, without much thought, I made chicken soup. Not the rushed kind. The kind that simmers.

A drumstick. Onions, garlic, ginger.

Red dates, black raisins, wolfberries.

Potatoes. Pink salt.

And because the soul asked for it, a splash of red wine.

As it bubbled quietly on the stove, something softened in me.

Only later did I understand that this wasn’t a productive day. It was a tending day! 

To memory. To the body. To grief that doesn’t always announce itself loudly. To the part of me that still knows how to soothe without words.

There are days when healing looks like effort and strength. And there are days when healing looks like soup, a working fan and listening when the knee says “enough.”

Today was the latter. And that was more than enough.

It makes me think louder that just like in yoga, sometimes the most important practice is showing up gently, listening and allowing space; for the body, the heart and the soul.

A JOURNEY THROUGH MEMORY, FEAR & RELIEF

My Doctor’s Visit

This morning, I went to the doctor.

It was meant to be simple; blood tests, check-up, reassurance.

But what unfolded was so much more; a journey through memories, love, grief, courage and finally, lightness.

The Lab & The Routine

I started at the lab, where a nurse did the usual poke on my left arm. Then came the urine test and after that, I was free to head to the clinic.

Since I was early, the doctor’s nurse suggested breakfast. Toast with butter, half-boiled eggs, a cup of unsweetened chai; simple, grounding and unexpectedly comforting.

Sitting there, my heart wandered through the past decade…bringing my mom to this same clinic, watching her bond with the doctor who became like family, who cared for her until her last moments.

Memories Flood In

Today is February 7th — just 13 months after my mom passed on January 7th, 2025. 

Sitting there, memories of her presence were vivid. I could almost see her in the wheelchair, quietly observing me as she always did. If my hair had been down, she would have frowned with a smile and whispered, “Tie your hair up!”

Talking with the nurse, who had also been close to my mom, brought back even more tender reflections. My mom worried most about me. Even about things that seemed small, like whether I would find a partner and not stay alone. I cried quietly but composed myself as other patients came in for their appointments.

Meeting the Doctor

When it was finally my turn, the doctor asked me to explain the dizziness I had experienced. Looking at my blood test results, he said everything was fine. My occasional, brief spells of dizziness and the slight increase in tinnitus were nothing to worry about. I mentioned I’d already started taking Betaserc, which helped and he was pleased.

Then we talked, not just about symptoms but about life. I shared stories of my recent winter challenges and my Nepal trip. He shared his own winter adventures. The clinical space became human again; a space for connection, storytelling and laughter.

The Relief

Walking out, the weight of fear, worry and the past few days lifted. The culprit was my tinnitus, not illness. My body was well. My mind was well. I was well.

Reflection

Today reminded me that showing up for yourself, even for a routine check-up, is an act of courage.

Grief and memory do not disappear in these moments; they sit quietly with us.

But so can clarity, reassurance and relief; like a deep, gentle exhale.

My mom would have been proud.

I am grateful.

And today, I am light.

WALK FOR PEACE DAY 95!

Back on a review of Walk For Peace…😊

Today, watching the monks on Day 95, I am overwhelmed with awe and gratitude.

These souls teach the world peace, compassion and mindfulness…not with words, speeches or titles but through living it step by step.

They are simple, humble, devoted humans who carry the highest truths in their hearts and yet the world can feel their presence deeply.

I bow in spirit to their dedication, their courage and their quiet, unwavering care for all beings.

I am reminded that true teaching does not always need a podium…it can simply exist in the way one lives, breathes and moves through the world.

Today, I hold this feeling close; 

• A reminder to embody peace in my own small ways
• Gratitude for witnessing something so pure
• Inspiration to let action, presence and care speak louder than words

May this awe remain a gentle light in my heart, guiding me toward patience, compassion and mindful presence. 🙏🏻✨

A FINAL CLOSING REFLECTION: WHEN THE PATH REVEALS ITSELF

As this series comes to a close, (though I may review further since the Walk For Peace has not reached their Final Destination), I realize that the Walk for Peace has been doing more than sharing a message; it has been a quietly revealing one.

Through the monks’ journey, memories surfaced. 

The image of a monk who lost his leg brought me back to my late mom; to the years of pain, uncertainty and recovery after her accident. 

To the moment she stood up from her wheelchair, took a few steps and began walking again. 

To the way faith carried her forward, not dramatically, but steadily, lovingly and without surrender.

And with that, something else became clear.

My own faith. 

My connection to the Buddha’s teachings. 

My draw toward Vipassana meditation. 

The ten days of silence in Nepal. 

The patience, endurance and awareness I’ve been cultivating over time; all of it suddenly made sense. It was never random. It was never separate.

The Walk for Peace did not give me new beliefs.

It helped me recognize the ones that were already walking with me.

Perhaps that is what peace truly is; not something we seek outside ourselves, but something that reveals itself when we are ready to see the path we’ve already been on.

Step by step.

With faith.

With awareness.

With an open heart.